Page 57 of Manhattan Kiss

I wasn’t expecting it, and I scream. It’s almost too much. I’m so close to orgasming again.

“You can come if you need to.”

I exhale. He’s right, my climax is a need. A necessity. It feels like goddamn oxygen.

“But I’m not going to stop. I’m going to keep fucking you through it. Just know that.”

He starts to move, and even though he does fit, he’s so big, fills me so entirely, that all I can think about is his cock. His thick, hard cock inside me, making me his.

I’ve never felt so wanton. Never felt so desired, so sexy.

I never want to come, because if I do, this might be over and I never want it to end.

“Don’t stop,” I cry out.

He moves so his body is over mine, never stopping his rhythm.

My orgasm tears out of me, coiling and uncoiling throughout my body. I tunnel in and out of consciousness, but Deacon doesn’t skip a beat.

He keeps fucking me.

Just like he promised.

I feel weak and boneless, but something inside me springs to life more quickly than expected. It’s desire. Even though he’s made me come twice, I still want him.

My hands reach for him, and my fingers find his broad back, his hot skin, sticky with exertion.

He groans as I tighten my grip, my fingernails digging into his muscles.

My desire pulls inside me, my climax being prodded to life again.

Deacon feels it right away. “Again,” he growls. “Again.”

It’s like he has direct access to my subconscious and I’ve lost all control. My pleasure rachets up, higher and higher at his command, until an orgasm rips through my body again.

But this time I’m not on my own. This time, Deacon’s own pleasure envelops him, and I smile as I feel his orgasm rocket through his body.

“Fuck,” he shouts. “Aurora.”

I squeeze him, milk him, I want all of him.

He collapses, panting on top of me.

“Jesus,” he chokes out. “I thought you might have killed me, you feel so good,” he says as he pulls out of me.

“Same.” It’s the only thing I have the energy to say. I reach over and brush his cheekbone with my fingertips as he deals with the condom.

The lights of the city coming through the windows highlight his muscles. It makes me wonder if he uses the hotel gym. I make a mental note to ensure my walk-arounds includes the gym next time he’s staying.

He sits up against the headboard and pulls me between his legs so my back is against his front.

“Are you okay?” he asks, nuzzling into my neck.

“More than okay,” I say, resting my arms on his, which circle my waist.

His fingers find my clit immediately, and I almost stop him to ask if he really thinks he’s going to make me come.

But I don’t make the rules. He’s been clear with me on that. And for tonight, I’m happy for him to do what he wants to me. I’m not sure there’s anything that I’d say no to.